Hero
by NYCSVULOVE
Summary: That night everything changed. A true, heavy love began with me and someone I never would have thought to be mine. Life at SVU became more hectic as rookies emerged out of the blue. More than anything though, that night was the start of me growing,, attaining a wisdom that you only read about in fairy tales.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is a new thing for me so stick with me on this. I have big plans for this story, though I'm not so sure where it might go! Leave a review of what you think so far! More coming soon. :) **

* * *

**Prologue**

Many people have referred to me as a hero. They were mostly victims, thanking me for giving them the strength to overcome what had happened to them.

In all honesty, I never believed them. It wasn't that I thought they were lying, but I knew somewhere in my heart that eventually, one way or another they would find that strength in themselves, they just needed a little push. I happened to be that little push and for that they praised me.

Until that one fatal December night when I was called out to a typical case, my life was normal, undisturbed, basic. Everything I thought I wanted. I never could imagine myself with a nice brownstone, a loving boyfriend, and little people running around. It just wasn't who I was…or so I thought.

That night everything changed. It was the beginning of a long, complicated relationship with a girl who reminded me much of myself when I was her age. It was also the start of something so much deeper and complex than just that one case.

A true, heavy love began with me and someone I never would have thought to be mine. That relationship with that one girl blossomed over time as she experienced more obstacles in her life that I had to help her with. Life at SVU became more hectic as rookies emerged out of the blue. More than anything though, that night was the start of me growing, attaining a wisdom that you only read about in fairy tales.

Now, it's my turn to pass that wisdom on to you.

This is my story of becoming a hero.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just wanted to clarify a few things. This starts during the ending of the 12th season and none of the Jenna shooting thing ever happened, so it's kinda A/U. Also, this chapter is just a starter for the whole thing, so it's really not that interesting, but the drama is coming I promise ;) **

**A guest wrote that I never complete my stories...I'm really sorry guys, I've been meaning to update most of them, but sometimes it hard to stick with them all the time until you feel like writing it again. Don't worry though, none of them are going to remain incomplete. :) enjoy! **

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**Chapter One**

**December 18**

I cradled my head in my hands as I gazed down at the shit load of work I had to complete before the sun came up and Cragen rammed in here, demanding for it. I knew it was nearly one o'clock in the morning and I could just as easily finish it in the comfort of my own home, but something about an empty apartment saddened me. At 43 I should be married, or have a boyfriend at least to keep me company. Although, it might be a contributing factor to the nonexistence of one that I never go home. I'm usually here, perched at my desk or out hunting rapists.

Tonight, I was a lot happier than I normally would be because Elliot was here too. He didn't seem to be doing much, shuffling through bunches of old files and muttering curses under his breath about the weather.

I had a feeling that he didn't want to go home to an empty apartment either. Ever since he divorced Kathy, life with Elliot was a little….tough. He snapped a lot, lost control a lot. I had a feeling out partnership was either coming to a slow, grueling end or we were just going through the roughest patch we had ever had.

Elliot wasn't entirely to blame though. When I found out Eli wasn't his from Fin, I flipped out on him, for not trusting me enough to tell me, for not giving me that respect as his partner. Elliot fought right back, demanding that I mind my own business and stay out of his personal life.

It had been two months since that had gone down and I was, for the most part, accepting that we needed to stop spending so much time together. Elliot, on the other hand, had been acting a little strange lately, staying late with me at the precinct, offering to buy drinks (if he was in a good mood).

"So," I began, "why are you here tonight?" Elliot glanced up at me from the scattered papers on his desk.

"No reason in particular, what about you?"

"Just finishing some paperwork on the Famblini case."

"Do you need any help?," Elliot offered. I could tell at once that he was being sincere, something I praised myself for. I nodded and split the huge clump of paper in half and handed the slightly smaller one to him.

We had worked this case over three weeks ago, so no wonder Cragen was in a hurry to get all of the paperwork together since his trial would be coming up soon. It was pretty high profile. Jerry Famblini had broken into the home of two teenage girls that were alone and raped, tortured, and nearly killed them. The two girls seemed far too traumatized to testify at trial, but gently and slowly Elliot, Huang, and myselfwere getting the girls to open up more and more. It was a tough process, but it was nothing we couldn't handle.

An hour passed byas slowly as possible. By the time the clock struck 1:45, I was pretty much finished, only a few more forms to fill out. I was far too tired to so much as look at another sentence so I decided I would catch a few winks in the crib and wake up early to complete them.

"El, I'm gonna go to bed," I murmured sleepily as I got out of my chair and stretched. As if perfectly timed, my cellphone rang. This would literally only happen to me, I was sure of it. I must be cursed or something because no one that I knew had that much bad luck. And of course only to make things better the caller I.D. was Cragen's.

"Hello," I answered, trying my hardest not to sound miserable.

"Liv, I know it's late." Cragen's tone was understanding and I couldn't help but smile at how much he reminded me of a father. "There's a situation at Middleway Academy on Columbus. 15 year old girl, Monica Forte, was assaulted and the attacker made it out of there." I sighed, not loudly enough for him to hear. "Call Elliot and tell him to meet you there."

"No need, Cap. He's sitting right across from me, helping me with the Famblini paperwork." I could almost imagine his brow furrowing.

"You're still working on that?" Shit, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that. The last thing I needed Cragen to think was that I was procrastinating, which I sort of was.

"It's a lot of forms, Don," I said, hoping the use of his first name would remind him that I'm one of his finest detectives. It must've worked because the next moment he was explaining that I could finish it tomorrow once I got the victims statement from Middleway.

Once that was over, I grabbed my jacket and gave Elliot the look that explained everything as if he didn't already know. He sighed heavily and dragged himself out of his chair and grabbed his jacket as well. We walked to the elevators, our pace completely in tandem.

"I hate my job," Elliot groaned, jabbing at the down button.

"Why don't you quit then?," I asked. I knew it was a rude question, but it was the truth. He could just as easily land another job in homicide or narcotics.

"Why don't you, Olivia?" My eyes snapped up to meet his icy stare. I was taken off guard and before I even had the chance to comprehend his question he answered for me. "Because this job and me is everything you have. And that's the same thing for me."

The elevator doors opened and I stood there like an idiot as he got in. For once, Elliot had said something that was offensive, but at the same time, it was true as hell.

"You coming?" I shook myself out of my daze and stepped onto the shaft, bumping shoulders with him.

I could only hope that we would get back into the swing of things.

* * *

The short ride to Middleway was comfortably silent, probably because we were both too damn tired to say another word.

I hadn't been to Middleway Academy in a long time. It was an all girls, Catholic boarding school, so how much trouble could they really be? I'd forgotten how incredibly huge and beautiful it was until we pulled through the wrought, iron gates. The grass was lush and green, slightly dewy at the early hour, the buildings were tall and seemed to loom over me in a taunting way, and the snow that was beginning to sprinkle down on us only enhanced how nice the school really was.

I saw a uni up ahead standing next to an ambulance which suggested Monica was still here.

"El, I'm gonna go find Monica." He nodded, a silent agreement between us reached. Normally, when there was a younger victim, she was more hesitant to reveal personal information to a man, so I would usually take up interviewing them.

I walked as quickly as I could so that we could continue on our way to the hospital.

"SVU." I flashed the uniform in my badge and brushed past him, not in the mood for any chatter about the victim's mental state. She could tell me herself.

"Monica?," I asked, standing at the entrance to the ambulance. A pretty girl with black hair and almond brown eyes gazed questioningly back me before nodding slowly. She looked pretty banged up. A dark bruise was forming on her cheek and a paramedic was cleaning up a nasty slice on her arm.

"Monica, I'm Detective Olivia Benson with the Special Victim's Unit. I'm here to ask you some questions about your attack so we can find whoever did this to you."

"Okay," Monica responded in a meek voice. I climbed into the ambulance and sat down next to her as the uniform closed the doors.

"Now this isn't your official statement, this is just to get the word out. Is it alright if we have you come down to the police station tomorrow?," I asked gently.

"Yeah, that's fine."

"First, can you describe the attack for me?"

I could see her already beginning to struggle to find words, but I let her take her time. "I-I had a project due on Human Anatomy, so I stayed late to get it out of my way. I was alone in the library when I felt something sharp pressing against my throat. I felt his breath on my neck and he said that if I screamed he'd kill me." Monica ran her hand through her hair, struggling to hold back tears.

"H-he ripped my shirt open and started feeling me up. I kinda just froze, you know? He told me to say that I liked it, but it felt like my throat had closed up. I guess he got mad because he pushed me down on the ground and started kicking me in the stomach."

"Did you see his face?," I asked. Monica nodded glumly.

"Yeah. He was white, kinda handsome, blonde hair, had a stubble. I think he had dark eyes. I'd never seen him before."

"Do you think you could describe him to a sketch artist for us?" Monica nodded.

"That's great. Now, what happened next?"

"I was afraid he was going to start kicking my head, so I covered myself to reduce the risk of any brain damage." I raised my eyebrows. That was a lot of coordination for someone who was being attacked. "I knew he was going to try and kill me and something just snapped. I started kicking and scratching, hoping that I would hurt him. I think I hit him in the balls or something because the next minute he was on his knees, yelling. I got up and ran to the Carter Building where I'd seen some people earlier. He was rightbehind me and he lunged at me and cut me with the knife. Once I'd made it close enough I started screaming and Mrs. Wintworth came outside. I heard him run off once she started yelling. Then she called the police."

I tried to think of a plausible explanation to not hug this girl. It was a rarity when we had victim's that made it out of a situation like this almost completely unscathed.

Though, now I beginning to have my doubts of her telling the truth. Except what would be the use of staging an attack for her? I thought maybe she could have gotten in a fight with her boyfriend, but first I had to investigate what she was telling me before I jumped to conclusions. A tiny voice in the back of my mind insisted she was telling me the truth.

"You're really lucky to have made it out of there alive," I said with a small, proud smile. Although, I was in fact glad she was okay, I wanted to see how she would react. Of course, I was no profiler, but working with years of Huang's assumptions, I pretty much knew the basics.

"I know. I keep telling myself that," Monica muttered. "Wait, did you call my parents?"

"They were notified by the first officers that got here. They're probably going to be meeting us at the hospital." Even as I said it, I could see her face breaking.

"Oh God." She let out a distressed sob. I could only imagine the humiliation she was feeling. It was never easy to face parents, especially with things like this. "They can't! They can't know about this!" She yanked her arm away from the paramedic that was still tending to. Immediately she pressed her face into her hands and let out muffled sob after sob. "No! They're going to be so upset!"

I leaned forward, unable to watch her struggle in pain anymore.

"Sweetheart, your parents aren't going to be angry with you-"

"You don't know my parents!" Monica withdrew her hands and looked up at me with her bloodshot, scared eyes. "They're expecting so much out of me for college and being attacked is just going to slow down the whole damn process a-and I just can't do this." She broke down into more hysterics.

It was so blatantly evident to me that she was under the most intense stress from her parents, I couldn't ignore it. I was Special Victims after all.

"Honey, do your parents hurt you?" Monica laughed coldly and shook her head.

"Trust me, if I had a plausible excuse to go to child services, I would. They don't abuse me, but they don't love me. All they want me to do is get good grades so I can get accepted into college and become a doctor," I could tell she was on the verge of needing a sedative. I could see it in her wild, tear-clouded eyes and the way her whole body was beginning to tremble. "My dad threw my sister out on the street when she was 18 because she wasn't a-a good enough student for him!"

Her sobs were becoming almost painful sounding and more streams of tears were coming down her face. I ushered for the paramedic to get the I.V. in. It was only plausible that Monica was coming out of the shock and couldn't completely handle what was happening. It would only be the best for her to get some rest while I dealt with her parents.

Soon her crying subdued and she was left looking at me with hazy eyes.

"Please," Monica muttered finally before passing out completely.

* * *

"Hey, Liv!" I turned around in my seat, tossing aside the House&Home magazine I was browsing. Elliot was coming towards me with a confused look on his face.

"What's wrong?," I asked.

"Why are you not answering your phone and why are you still here?" He plopped down on the chair next to mine. Shit. I searched around in my pockets until I found the device. God Dammit, the screen was black.

"Crap. I guess it died." I shoved in back in, not really caring at this point what calls I might have missed. The fact of the matter still remained that Monica's parents weren't here yet and it was nearly 3 hours after we'd arrived at the hospital.

"You didn't answer my question," Elliot sighed. I glared at him. Why couldn't he just leave me alone sometimes.

"Monica's parents aren't here yet, and obviously someone should wait to explain to them what happened to their daughter and what we're doing about it," I muttered, a slight edge present in my voice.

He must have realized how grumpy I was since it was nearly five thirty in the morning and I probably haven't slept a wink for an estimated three days.

"I can stay if you want. You deserve to catch some sleep, Liv, you look like shit."

"You're always the charmer, Stabler," I growled as I untangled myself from the position I was in. I grumbled and bitched on my way over to the coffee machine and poured myself a nice, generous mug. I didn't even bother offering one to Elliot.

"Come on. I know you never give up that easy, but you really must be exhausted," Elliot pleaded in a tired voice as I slouched back down in my seat. I knew Elliot never begged me for anything, unless it was for my own good and that wasn't often. He didn't care about me nearly as much as I cared about him, so whenever the time came when he did show some compassion for me, I milked it all out of him.

I shook my head and took a long sip of the bitter coffee. God, what I would do for a Starbucks right now.

"Excuse me." A shill woman's voice nearly made me spill my coffee all over myself. She sounded like a freaking bird. I turned around to see a tall, bony lady marching down the hallway towards the front desk along with a man who looked about her age, 40. I tried convincing myself they weren't here for Monica, but the hospital was nearly empty on this floor at such an early hour. Nearly everyone else was asleep.

"I'm looking for Monica Forte," she demanded to the unsuspecting nurse stationed at the desk who looked as if she were dipping off.

"Uhm-"

"Ma'am," I made my way over to her, careful to look more awake, "I'm Detective Benson with the Special Victim's Unit-"

"I want to see my daughter immediately!" Bitch cut me off.

"Okay, Ma'am I understand that, but Monica's under sedation at the moment and I really think it would be prudent if-"

"Why the _hell_ is she under she under sedation?" This was going to be fun.

"She was extremely upset about the attack-"

"What happened to her? Did he rape her? The man that called us said he didn't rape her!" I took in a long deep breath and urged myself not to lose control and punch this woman.

"Look Mrs. Forte, please calm down," I urged for her own good rather than mine.

"I will not take orders from strangers!," the woman spat. Fuck, she looked as if she were about to go into a frenzy. Now I sorta got where Monica was coming from. Though I had to cut them some sort of slack. Their daughter was, after all, attacked.

"Okay," I breathed, "Why doesn't my partner take you in to see your daughter and I can discuss what happened to Mr. Forte." I mentally crossed my fingers that this would satisfy her because my patience was getting lower and lower with each passing second. The odds were on my side since Mr. Forte hadn't said anything since they-they meaning his wife-came swarming in here in a complete state of panic.

"Lily, it's fine," his voice was deep and husky, slightly attractive actually.

Elliot quickly led the way into the room with Mrs. Forte still mumbling about inconsiderate asses.

"Sir-"

"Look, I know what you're going to tell me." Christ, what was with this family and cutting me off? "Monica's fine," he hissed angrily, "but she's extremely upset and should stay in the hospital until she's calm enough to go home right?" I was taken off guard by his bluntness and complete change in tone, but it still registered through my sleep-hazed brain that he was right, so I nodded. "Wrong," he muttered. "Monica is coming home tonight. She can handle a few scratches and bruises. Now if you will please excuse me, I need to explain things to my wife and daughter." Mr. Forte turned sharply on his heel and marched into the room leaving my mouth hanging open and a hundred different thoughts racing through my mind.

A moment later, Elliot was at my side, tugging at my elbow.

"Liv, common lets go home," he grumbled. I tried to tug my elbow free from his grip, but the man was probably close to ten times stronger than me.

"What about her? They can't seriously take her home?," I questioned with disbelief, even though I already knew the answer. "She's a mess. She needs a shrink." I glared at him waiting for some sort of argument, the usual coming from him especially since it involved a child.

It surprised me when he only shook his head sadly.

"I'll drive you, so you don't kill yourself at the wheel." He had a point there, I had to admit that one.

I let him practically drag me out to the car, something I can't say has ever happened in our 12 years of partnership. We got to my apartment relatively quickly at the early hour.

My hand was already gripping the door handle when he spoke, husky and low. "Let me walk you up." I turned to look at him, a shiver running down my spine. I knew it must mean nothing to him, but to me…

I'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, longer than I would ever admit. Elliot would walk me upstairs, supporting all of my weight while insisting I need help when we both knew fully well I didn't. Eventually when we got inside, he would look deeply into my eyes as I began peeling away layers of gross clothes I had been in for days. He would cup my face and stare at me so intently, until tears formed in his eyes. Then Elliot would kiss me, gently at first, then for frantic as we recognized each others desire. We would be naked in seconds, the need radiating off of our bodies as we stumbled into the bedroom clumsily, exploring each other for the first time. He would lay me down on the bed, peppering kisses down my abdomen…

"Liv?" Elliot's voice rang out through my head, disturbing my daydream. I shook my head clearing all thoughts of something that would never, ever happen. I loved him, I really and truly did. And he loved me. Just not in the way I did.

"It's fine, Elliot," I murmured, slightly depressed at this point. His hand grasped my arm before I could fully drag myself out of the car.

"If I don't, you know you're going to be asleep in the elevator," he persisted with a smirk playing at his lips. My tired eyes shot over to his. There it was, my mind playing tricks on me again. Maybe, it was the beginning of hallucinations from sleep deprivation. Nevertheless, he wasn't insisting to take me up when he knew fully well that I could do it on my own. No, he was actually 1,000 percent accurate on that one and God forbid his partner wakes up in some strangers house after they had dragged her out of said elevator.

"Fine," I huffed. The night air was chillier than I thought it would be, so I pulled my coat tighter around me. I couldn't wait to get inside and just collapse. It was coming to the point where I forgot what actual relaxation felt like.

I fumbled around in my pocket for my keys when we got to my door. I almost didn't notice Elliot's hand creeping up to grab the keys from me. He immediately found the little bronze one and shoved it in the lock. My door squeaked open happily and I contemplated crying out of the sheer joy of knowing I was within a few feet of a bed.

"Do you need help?" I threw my keys down on the couch near the door and shook my head.

"God, Elliot, but if you want to have a fucking sleepover, please be my guest," I snipped at him, perhaps a little too harshly. He seemed to retreat a little bit and smiled weakly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll see you tomorrow." He grabbed the door and closed it, smiling before he disappeared. My partner could be so damn confusing especially when I hadn't slept in days and everything seemed to be moving around in circles.

I collapsed on the couch, intending to watch a few minutes of the News, but my eyes were shut before I could even think about Elliot again.


End file.
